Recapturing the Light
by Severa1
Summary: (NOW COMPLETE) A "Shadow of the Vampire" fic. Whatever happened to Murnau's first Photographer, Wolfgang Muller, after being taken to a Berlin hospital? Will anyone believe his story of vampirs and deceit?
1. Shattering

_Disclaimer: _Shadow of the Vampire and all its characters belong to _Saturn films and…is it Universal that released it? Yes…Universal I think. So Wolfgang doesn't belong to me...too bad. *sob* _

Chapter One: Shattering 

He awakes, sits straight up in bed, gasping, "More light, more light." Groping, blindly for the tableside lamp his hand brushes a glass, sliding it only a centimeter before it topples over the edge and makes a great shatter on the tile floor. There are a couple gasps as the room's other occupants are awakened by the noise. Soft, frantic footsteps sound on the tile before crunching on the broken glass.

Light. Finally, Light.

"Herr Muller?" the nurse manages to find the lamp that only a few seconds ago was so elusive to him. The nurse's white uniform reflected the lamplight causing her to glow like an angel. 

Light. Blessed Light.

The nurse sits on the edge of the bed. She takes his cold, sweaty face in her hands on peers into his eyes, concernedly. "Did you have another nightmare, Herr Muller?" She asks in a comforting tone. He shivers at the remembrance of it and nods. She smiles. "It's all over now, Herr Muller. Why don't you lie back down, I'll get you some water, and when I get come back I'll clean up this glass." She stands up and precariously steps over the shards on the floor.

Wolf does as he is told and lies back down, turning his head so he faces the light. Even the darkness that his eyelids cause when he closes them stirs fright. He cannot lay back and look at the ceiling for the lamp is too weak to reach as far as that. There is no ceiling only blackness, the surrounding void.

Back in the nurse's station Berit fills a glass with tap water and sets it on the counter. As she bends to open the cabinet where the cleaning supplies are kept she is startled by a loud yawn. Straightening abruptly, she turns to see fellow nurse, Inga, sitting and reading a magazine. "What's the fuss now?" Inga asks, idly flipping a page, "If it's that Muller again I'll volunteer to put him out of his misery."

Berit tuts, "Don't be unkind, Inga."

Collecting the glass of water, hand broom and dust pan, she makes her way back to Muller's bedside. Setting the water down she notices his fixed gaze on the lamp. "You shouldn't do that you know," she says, bending to sweep up what is left of the previous glass, "it'll be bad for your eyes."

He makes a small noise in his throat, but keeps his eyes fixed in their current position. With all the glass shards in the dustpan Berit reaches to turn the lamp back off, but Muller grabs her wrist. "Please don't," he says finally looking at her.

"Herr Muller, the light will disturb the other patients."

"If only you knew what disturbs _my_ slumber."

Something in those dark, pleading eyes make Berit comply with his request. "Alright, Her Muller only for tonight." He lets go of her wrist. "Now get some sleep and pleasant dreams."

Her receding footsteps, his own breathing, and circulating blood within his ears are the last he hears before another fitful night. 

At least the last he sees is light.

Light. Illuminating Light.

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Wolf awakes again except this time it is morning; at least he can assume it is morning. The ever-helpful lamp had been turned off and a soft glow desperately tries to make its way into the room form behind the thick, closed, curtains.

The two other patients he shares the room with are sitting up and eating a bowl of some type of gruel that smells as foul as it looks and Wolf assumes tastes. Footsteps come form the hallway. Wolf finds himself slightly hoping that it is the kindly nurse from the previous night. But alas, Dr. Komisch sweeps in, his white coat fluttering behind him. A white coat not unlike the kind himself and the rest of Murnau's crew had worn.

Murnau. That bastard.

"Good morning, Herr Muller. Glad to see you awake. For one so adverse to the darkness you rather enjoy the kind provided by the back of your eyelids, _ja_?" The doctor treats himself to a laugh on the behalf of his own joke. Wolf only makes a disgruntled noise and turns his attention to the window. The doctor, unacknowledged by Wolf, goes to his side and tears off the bandage at Wolf's neck, causing the younger man to flinch as the adhesive pulls at his skin. "Hmm, no sign of healing yet. Very strange," he says, taking out another gauze and applies it to the wound. "What was it that did this to you?"

Wolf blinks a couple times. "What did Murnau tell you?"

"That it was some animal while you were filming in Czechoslovakia."

"Then that's what happened."

"If you say so Herr Muller, but not any animal I have seen can do this."

"Have you ever been to Czechoslovakia, Herr Doctor?"

"Well, no."

Wolf finally turns to look at Komisch. He doesn't open his mouth, the one raised eyebrow peaks the "Apparently not." 

Komisch sighs. "Fine Herr Muller, whatever you say, but the more you can tell us of what happened there the easier it may be for is to treat you."

Wolf just blinks once at the doctor and turns back to the window. Resigned, the doctor leaves.

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Evening comes. Berit arrives for her shift, punctual as ever at seven o'clock. Inga is there as is another nurse, Elsa. "Why look Elsa, it's Herr Muller's personal nursemaid! Do you think she will read him a bedtime story along with his glass of water tonight?"

Elsa laughs. "Of course! But nothing scary, the poor man is afraid of the dark as it is."

"Oh, of course not," Berit says, playing along, "I'll read him faerie stories about beautiful maidens and handsome princes and lots of romance. And afterwards I'll give him a kiss goodnight." Berit sticks her tongue out at the other two nurses. If they are going to be childish, she may as well be too.

Inga rolls her eyes and drops the matter, but Elsa insists on pressing Bit further. "You know. Speaking of Herr Muller, I heard Herr Doctor say that he belongs more in a mental institute more so than here."

Berit looks at her in surprise. "Stop joking Elsa, it's not nice."

"I'm not!" Elsa insists. "Herr Doctor made a comment about him not being connected with reality." She laughs with her high-pitched giggle.

Berit bites her lip. "Even if it is true… He still has those wounds, we have to take care of them!"

Elsa scoffs. "Oh please, those bite marks? Probably an overeager lover."

Berit scowls, but says nothing knowing that Elsa had hoped mentioning a lover would get her riled. Berit isn't going to let it. It was ridiculous really, the assumptions that these women make. Seriously, Muller was only brought in four days ago and just because Berit has been showing a bit more sympathy everyone thinks she is fallen in love with him! True, she thought him rather attractive, but that hardly ever affected which patients she paid more attention to. She takes special interest in Muller because well…he seems to need it.

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_This was of course only chapter one. I hope to get more of the chapters up soon. Just depends on how much time college allots me. Hope you enjoyed it thus far. So review! REVIEW! REVIEW!_


	2. Breaking Through

Chapter 2: Breaking Through

_Murnau's voice: our weapon is the moving picture…our poetry will be shadows that lengthen and conceal; our light will play across living faces that laugh and agonise…_agonise…

_He's behind the camera, back where he belongs. His hand rhythmically, monotonously, always turning the crank. Through the camera lense he can see what the camera is burning into film. It is light, just light. Wolf blinks, moves away form the shutter, and removes his goggles, but his hand continues to work. Straightening from his bent position, all he can see is darkness. The light, he figures must be coming from within the camera itself. His hand has stopped turning the lever. The hand is not recognizable as his own. The skin, marble white; the fingers slender, long, soiled, as it is with hi nails. He looks at it with horrified disgust…_What is that next you… _He picks up a book with the pale, wizened hand. _Nosferatu! _Dropping it this as quickly as it appeared in his hand as the all to familiar and all too familiar pain jabs his throat. Never seeing the assailant, always in darkness. Hot and cold, life draining._

The harsh contrast of the darkness of the dream and the light when Wolf wakes causes his eyes to water. A small yelp next to him startles him. "What are you doing?" He asks quickly if not a bit harshly. 

"J-just changing the bandage, Herr Muller. Suddenly the marks were bleeding again soaking right through."

Wolf sees the gauze that she just removed and does notice that the blood on it is fresh. He blinks a couple times still adjusting to the light then reprimands himself upon recognizing the nurse he had just spoken so callously to is the same who had been kinder to him than the others. Berit is her name, if his mind is properly functioning to recall names to faces. Wolf tries to remain still for her, but he cannot stop the spasmodic trembling in his muscles, still in shock from the nightmare.

_No, it wasn't a nightmare…it happened._

Berit was saying something.

"What?"

She smiles; almost amused it seems at his slight disorientation. "I asked if you had eaten today."

Wolf clutches at his arms, trying to stop shaking. "Depends, what day is it?"

Not exactly sure on how to respond she simply says, "It's today, Herr Muller."

He shudders. "Wolf. Please, just call me Wolf. You keep on saying 'Herr Muller' it makes me fell like I'm still on that set."

There are a couple giggles from the doorway. Wolf turns and finds himself snarling like an affronted animal at the other two nurses who were being nothing but nosy. His growl causes the harpies' eyebrows to rise, but they leave nonetheless. 

Even after the women leave, Wolf still glowers at the darkened hall. Berit watches his still shivering form and gently brushes a lock of matted hair from his forehead. "What is it," she asks gently, but her voices causing wolf to snap his head around startled by it, "that dream that puts you in such a state?"

He swallows; his dark eyes become distant. "Have you ever seen Death?"

Berit laughs at the question. "I am nurse Herr, sorry, Wolf. I see it all the time."

"No," he almost whispers, his eyes no longer focused on the present world, but rather back to a not so distant past, "no, not death as in someone dying, but Death Itself manifested into a gruesome caricature of what was once living. Walking, talking, a black coat hanging off bleached bones. _The overture of our symphony of horrors._"

Berit, getting more than a little disturbed by the conversation decides to try to bring him back to practical matters. "You have not eaten. I'll try to get you something." She gets up to head out of the room.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I frightened you. You asked…"

"No," she assures him, "you are right, I asked." Outside she passes Elsa and Inga who are, rather immaturely, speaking purposely for Berit to hear.

"Did you see how he _growled_ at us? As if he were some big dog," Elsa was saying.

"Well his name _is _'Wolf'!" She responds. "Isn't that right Berit?" 

Berit finally has had enough. She turns on them and points accusingly. "Have you no decency? Why do you insist on making fun of the poor man when it is, or am I mistaken, our duty to care for and comfort our patients?"

Inga snorts. "Yes, but we know in which manner you desperately want to 'comfort' our Herr Muller."

Not being able to hold herself back any longer, Berit slaps Inga. Elsa and the victim stare wide-eyed at the small nurse. "Now," Berit says, composing herself, "I am going to continue to do my job."

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The next say, Berit gets a call, asking if she can come in early. It is around three o'clock when she comes to fill in for the nurse who ironically went home sick. She ventures from this other nurse's usual rounds and is unable to resist the urge to have a look in on Wolf. To her surprise he is fully awake and sitting up, but his eyes once again stare blankly at the opposite wall. Her presence distracts him soon enough. At her first step into the room he looks at her and blinks, not use to seeing her this time of day. He smiles lightly which Berit find herself reveling in. 

"Hello Wolf, how are we today?"

He doesn't answer her question; instead he poses one of his own. "Is it sunny out?"

"Ja," she responds enthusiastically, "not a cloud in the sky nor shadow to be seen."

He snorts softly. "Impossible. Where there is light there will be shadows."

She chuckles a bit. "Forgive me, I forget I am speaking to Herr Fotographi."

She walks to his bedside and looks at his neck. "Has this been changed recently?"

"I'd like to go out."

"What, now?"

 "Yes, I want to go outside."

She looks at him incredulously. "I don't know. I'll have to speak to Dr. Komisch about it."

Wolf sighs knowing the kook would disapprove, but he gets another idea. "Why bother? Don't you believe he would trust your own professional opinion that a patient so pale and wan could use a touch of fresh air?" he asks with a cheeky eyebrow raised.

She puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes playfully in mock disgust that he would try to goad her in such a manner. But internally she is thoroughly relieved that he has taken on the mantle of a more awake and animated character. He is giving her a rather disconcerting look as if he knows she is going to relent. So she does.

"Alright, but only for a moment. Let me get you a robe or something to wear out there." She goes to a cupboard and starts sorting through its contents. "Can you walk?" she asks, finding the item and turning back to him.

"Since I was a babe," he replies with a smile.

Berit _tsks_ and throws the robe at him.

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The hospital has a small yard for its patients and even it's staff to get a bit of exercise and escape the confines of the white walls. It is autumn, and the trees' brightly coloured leaves fall and turn brown as they sit separated from their parent. The air is mildly chilly as the unhindered sun warms the body fast enough.

Wolf, despite his inane joke about his mobility, discovered that he still was a bit weak to completely walk on his own accord. So on the narrow concrete path, Berit helps him, holing onto his arm and a providing a cut in the cold air with her own warmth. There are benches on the path so Berit and Wolf sit. Berit removes herself from his arm, drops her hands in her lap and stares at her shoes. Wolf, on the other hand, tilts his face towards the sun that is already on the western side of the horizon. He brings his hand up to brush away a lock of hair that a slight breeze displaced, and for the first time notices how truly pale he has become. _Almost as pale as… _He looks now at Berit who is uncommonly interested in her toes. "Anything the matter?"

She looks up and smiles at him. "Nothing at all."

A shrill giggle form across the yard interrupts them. It's Elsa, arriving for her shift. She waves at them and stifles her mouth with the other hand. Wolf glares at her, watching her into the building. "They talk about you." He comments.

Berit shrugs. "Gossip is the life-blood of some nurses. It's the only entertainment we can get."

"Rather pathetic form," he scoffs. "Why not read a book, go to the theatre or the cinema?"

"I haven't a mind to read books very often, but if I get time and I save a bit of money, I'll treat myself to the theatre or the cinema."

"Treat yourself? Have you no gentleman friend to take you?"

She blushes a little and stutters. "N-not as such. Not that I _never_ have 'gentleman friends' as you say, it is just that they hardly last long." Uncomfortable, she steers the conversation off of herself. "What about you," she asks, "Don't you have any lady friends?"

Wolf smiles and laughs. Berit has never heard him laugh before and she quite likes it. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. "Not as such," he replies, "but there were these two girls I worked with and flirted with a little. Elke and Maria." His eyes get a far away look again. "I hope they're all right," he mutters.

Finding herself not at all liking to hear him talk about other women, she changes the subject again. "What sort of film were you making?"

"When you ever happened to read, did you ever read _Dracula_?"

"Oh no!" she says, "I think that book is far to scary for me to read! Is that what you were filming?" Suddenly, Berit gets very interested.

Wolf's eye twitches for a moment. "In a manner of speaking. Though I suppose if the book is too scary for you, you would not be interested in the picture."

Berit crosses her arms. "Not necessarily. I've come to find that a person's mind can create more horrible images than anything a photograph, moving or otherwise, could show."

Suddenly wolf loses the animated appearance he had during the conversation and once again becomes distant and quiet. "What about reality?" he asks.

"Every waking moment of reality is frightening, whether we know it or not. All we can do is try to overcome our fears and persevere." Looking at Wolf now, she sees he has become completely withdrawn again. Sighing, she stands. "Come on. Even too much sunlight can be a bad thing."

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_A/N: The next chapter is going under some extensive revising. Hope you enjoyed this one and appreciate how fast I got it up. So now chill and wait for the next. Ciao. Oh, and review. Thanks._


	3. Story Telling

Chapter 3: Story Telling

Over the next couple of days no one could not help but notice that Herr Muller seemed to be on the mend. His complexion returned to a healthy shade, his nightmares were less frequent or at least tamer, and his wounds stopped bleeding, but they still looked infected.

Berit is treating the wounds as she says, "I still don't believe you do not know what did this to you."

"You would not believe me even if I did tell you."

 "Oh now, I fancy myself a rather open minded person, why not try me?"

Wolf thinks it over. "Well, if you claim to be 'open minded' then do you believe in anything…supernatural?"  
  


Berit frowns. "What, like ghosts and fortune telling?"

"You are close, but think more on the lines of creatures."

She sighs and shakes her head, still not getting where he is trying to go. Until that is her attention is drawn to the marks on his neck, like two pinpricks…or teeth. She starts to laugh. "No…"

"See, you are laughing already!"  
  


"Come now, what is this, some bizarre publicity ploy for that vampire film…"

"No, just listen." Wolf swallows trying to think of how to make her understand and believe. "Please, you are the only one I can talk to." Her face changes from, humour to compassion. His face is wan with seriousness, his eyes completely sane she notes. "Murnau," he continues, "has gone too far. He's obsessed with making the ultimate realistic vampire film, his 'Symphony of Horror'. How does one create a completely realistic vampire film? Hire a real vampire. We were told of that he was some sort of extreme Stanislovsky student."

"Stanislovsky?"

Wolf smirks finding how _that_ is her first question. Such an innocent inquiry. "An advocate of method acting…um…an actor literally becoming a character that he is playing. So we, and when I say 'we' and mean myself and the cast and crew, were told that this 'actor' would only appear to us in full make-up and costume. The first time I saw him, it wasn't right. No one could create that visage with stage make-up; no costume shop crafted that coat. There was age unattainable during those supposed few weeks of preparation."

"And this person…"

"Thing. Creature. Not person."

"Creature, attacked you?"

"At least three times, maybe more."

"And this Murnau did nothing?"

"I wouldn't doubt it if he encouraged it," Wolf spits, the disdain evident.

"My last day on set, the Thing attacked me in front of everyone! Everyone saw, everyone was in uproar; though the rest of that night is blurry I can still hear the ringing of Murnau's voice in my mind, shouting, no concern, no compassion. 'I am tired of your lack of enthusiasm' Are the last words I can remember him saying to me. Some darker side of me hopes that his vampire destroys him as well." He glances at Berit who is staring at him. "Yes…better call Dr. Komisch and tell him it's time to get Herr Muller committed."

She shakes her head. "Of course not Wolf. In my time I have seen people gone after some sort of physical or mental trauma; and after all you've been through I am amazed that you _are_ sane."

"Don't patronize me, please."

"I'm not! I believe you. In fact I feel a little special that you have decide to confide in me in such a way."

"I never asked you to keep it secret."

"No, but I shall. You know, I think finally telling someone all this will help you a lot." She stands, "It is getting late Wolf. Get some sleep." She turns off the lamp.

"Do you honestly believe me?" He asks her.

"You have never given any reason to not trust you. Why should I doubt you now?" She bends and briefly gives Wolf a kiss on the forehead before quickly retreating out of the room.

Wolf sleeps, but for once does not have nightmares.

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_A/N: Even after revising this chapter didn't come out as spiffy as I would like. Oh well. Such is life. Now review._


	4. Leaving

Chapter 4: Leaving

Berit is in the highest of spirits as she goes into work. After spending the last couple weeks taking care of Wolf, she has been truly enjoying her job. She smiles and waves at Elsa and Inga as she practically skips past them to her favourite room. She stops mid-skip though in the doorway. A bed is empty.

"Where's Wolf?" She asks the two women behind her tentatively.

"Oh, Herr Muller?" Elsa responds with an almost wicked grin. "Herr doctor let him go today. What's left of those wounds are two tiny scars now."

Berit knows that her face visible falls upon hearing this. For once in her life she has the feeling of "But I didn't even get to say good-bye".

"He left this though." Inga hands Berit a folded piece of paper with her name written on it. She opens it and reads:

_My dear Berit,_

_I had hoped to have gotten a chance to see you before I left, but it seems not to be. Now all I can hope for is that those nosey nurses don't read this before you do. _

_These past weeks have truly been a dark time for me. There were moments when I could almost sympathise with Murnau's vampire, longing for nothing more than the light of the sun. But I found something that produced a more brilliant light: you. I am certain if not for you I would have ended up in that mental institute Inga and Elsa have been so keen to send me.  So in all I have only to express my gratitude. Thank You. Maybe not the most original or clever way to express it, but then I am not a playwright. _

_Love,_

_Wolfgang_

_P.S. If Murnau actually manages to finish his insane picture maybe I can treat you to the cinema._


End file.
